


Promise

by loveinslowmotion



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Haylor, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 01:59:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinslowmotion/pseuds/loveinslowmotion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Taylor's thirtieth birthday rolls around, a drunken deal with Harry resurfaces that was a little more serious than they'd first thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiii so this is the first thing I've finished in ages and it was just something a bit random I got muse for, so yeah, enjoy.

**Text: Harry** **↔** **Taylor**

**Harry:**  Happy birthday love. Can’t wait to see you xx  
**Harry:**  Remember our deal?  
**Taylor:**  You’ve been waiting months for this haven’t you?  
**Harry:**  *years  
**Taylor:**  See you tonight curly x

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Birthday’s were something that Taylor had always loved. Whether it was her own or that of a loved one, it was a celebration she always threw herself into. Cakes, decorations, invitations, thoughtful gifts — Taylor liked to go all out. You only have one a year, after all, and you deserve to feel special on _your_ day. So it wasn’t really a surprise that when hers rolled around she started planning something special with a few of her friends. 

It wasn’t just _any_ birthday either. It was the big three-zero. No longer was she a free twenty year old enjoying her successful career, she was — well, she was still all that, just a little less twenty and a little more thirty. 

Part of her understood that it was kind of a big deal, but the other just saw it as a number. So Taylor was thirty — who cares? She was still completely gorgeous and enjoying her life surrounded by a good group of friends. She’d managed —  _barely_  — to control herself and not adopt another cat. Some people still liked to label her as a cat lady anyway, since she was still single —  _happily_ , she liked to add. But that wasn’t going to last. 

Her game-changer was long time friend Harry Styles. While their shot at a relationship hadn’t worked out the way they’d hoped, their friendship had blossomed over the years and even though they weren’t really public about it, Taylor undoubtedly called him one of her closest friends. She trusted him whole-heartedly. As commitment-unstable as he’d been while they were together, she knew now that he would always be there in one way or another. She knew that no matter what, she was stuck with his awful jokes and the frustrating way he would tease her just to mess with her and make her smile. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy for her to say yes when he proposed that goddamn deal – because honestly, all that was something she could live with. Something she _wanted_ to live with. 

It was at a get together Ed had organised a few years ago, some time at the end of her fifth tour. She hadn’t known Harry was going to be there, but he’d showed up with his long hair and unbuttoned shirt and they’d wound up getting drunk and promising that they would get back together for another try if they were still single by the time they were twenty-five and thirty. They both recalled the conversation well, considering. (They also recalled spending the rest of the night with their tongues down each other’s throats, but they never mentioned that.)

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

 

_“If I’m still alone when I’m thirty, maybe we should set me up on a dating site,” Taylor suggested as she lay on a couch with Harry in one of the back rooms. They’d snuck off a little while earlier when they found the opportunity — their usual routine._

_Harry seemed to ponder the idea._ “Hi, I’m Taylor. I like singing, baking, and watching Law  & Order. If you don’t like cats I don’t like you.”  
   
_“How about we get you one too?” she grinned._ “Hi, I’m Harry. I like singing, sleeping, and bananas. If you can’t handle bad jokes you can’t handle me.”  
   
_“My jokes aren’t bad,” he protested, and she lifted her head from his shoulder to place a kiss on his cheek._

_“Your jokes are shit,” she assured him, not that she would trade them for anything else._

_“How about we make a deal?” he said, and she just knew it wasn’t going to be something sensible that he would propose if they hadn’t been doing shots half an hour ago. “If you’re thirty and we’re both single, we give us another chance.”_

_“What makes you so sure I’ll still be single?”_

_“‘Cause if you’re not, I’ll have to break you and this man up so that you are.”_

_Taylor rolled her eyes. “Deal, you idiot. But no interfering if I’m with someone.”_

_“Fine. But remember, nobody loves you baby the way I do.”_

_“Isn’t that a line from one of your songs?”_

_“Shut up, I’m being romantic,” Harry grinned ridiculously, sealing the promise with a kiss._

 

_* * * * * * * * * * * * *_

 

Now, Taylor was running a brush through her hair and checking her lipstick one last time before her friends came knocking on her door. She already had a few over — Karlie and the Haim girls — help set up the apartment. Streamers hanging all around and a giant happy birthday banner on one wall, the sparkling lights on the Christmas tree in the corner which she’d set up as soon as the calendar flipped to December helped set the celebratory scene. Music had been playing through the speakers all afternoon and there were plates of food spread across the dining table, all of them made by Karlie and Taylor herself. She was yet to see the cake — Karlie had insisted it was going to be a surprise. She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be the only surprise she got that night, either. 

As guests started to arrive and the party really started, Taylor mingled in her black lace dress, hugging and catching up with people she hadn’t seen in months. That was another thing she loved about birthdays — they brought people together again. As fast paced as her life could be, it was refreshing to spend time with people who knew the real her. 

Half an hour into the party, cue surprise number one. Taylor was having a nice chat with pal Hailee when someone set off a party popper right behind her. Seriously, it didn’t sound safe how close this one was. She didn’t even know there _were_ party poppers hanging around. But apparently so, since she had the little mess of streamers on her head and Cara laughing behind her at the way she’d jumped at the unexpected sound. 

“Happy birthday, love!” Cara yelled over the music, wrapping her arms around the taller girl from behind and smacking a kiss on her cheek. “You’re so _old._ ”

“Thanks, babe,” Taylor laughed, taking the streamers off her head and tossing them in Cara’s direction as she bounced off to scare someone else, no doubt. 

A glass of wine later, Taylor _hated_ to be that girl, but she found herself regularly checking her phone for any messages she might’ve missed. She hadn’t heard anything from Harry since the morning, and she found it a little odd that he hadn’t arrived already. Surely he would send a text if something had happened, but all she had was a late happy birthday message from one of her cousins. 

Karlie found her near the food with her second glass in one hand and her sticker-covered iPhone in the other. “Tay, babe, put your phone down.”

“Hang on—”

“Taylor. Relax. He’s coming.”

That was the thing about best friends — they know before you even have to say anything. 

Taylor looked up from her screen, still a little unsure but deciding just to take her word for it. “Do you wanna dance?” she asked instead, answered with a bright smile. 

“I think you know the answer to that.”

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Buzzing with energy, alcohol and chocolate, Taylor relaxed into her element on the makeshift dance floor. Ridiculous as she may have looked swinging her hips and sliding her hands down her front, you couldn’t deny how completely happy Taylor Swift looked when she was dancing. A sight to light up any mood, honestly. 

So invested in expressing herself through The 1975’s _She Way Out_ , Harry had slipped to the back of her mind. She didn’t even notice him when he did arrive, too busy staring at surprise number two — a mass of balloons now taking space in the room, some the regular birthday variety, others in the shape of various animals. 

Taylor gasped in childlike wonder. “Is that a giraffe? No fucking way!” She abandoned her dancing partners in favour of the inflated zoo of random animals now in attendance — the giraffe, a dolphin, a bear, a butterfly, even a unicorn. It was miracle that they’d managed to get them all through the door. 

“Happy birthday,” Ed greeted her with a hug as best as he could with the strings of the balloons in his hands. 

“Where did you get all these, oh my god?!” 

"Me 'nd Styles picked them out.”

Taylor followed the tilt of Ed’s head to the boy partly hidden by balloons beside him, and with an excited squeal she pulled them both in for a group hug. “You guys are the best; I love you!” she announced, placing kisses on both of their cheeks, red lipstick stains for each of them. “Where have you guys been? It’s been ages.”

“We got pulled over,” Harry explained, hand still lingering on her waist and a comforting warmth spreading across her back. “Apparently having that many balloons in a car at once is a safety hazard.”

“You could’ve just gotten them delivered.”

“Then we wouldn’t have gotten to see your reaction.”

A smile on her lips, a silence fell between the three, which was mainly just Taylor and Harry staring at each other with Ed awkwardly glancing between them. What do you do when two of your best friends are making heart eyes at each other? You find the nearest exit out of third wheel territory. ASAP. 

“I’m gonna go put these around,” Ed told them, and the pair broke their stare to nod in his direction. 

In her defence, Taylor watched Ed start to scatter the jumble of balloons around the room for a good ten seconds before she threw her arms around Harry and gave him a good, proper hug. It had been a while since she’d last seen him in person, maybe a couple of months, and she would’ve done the same even if they didn’t have the deal lingering over their heads. 

“You look gorgeous, Taylor,” he complimented when they eventually pulled away. “Not a day over twenty.”

She laughed at that, running her hand from his shoulder down his chest. “I see you still haven’t got the hang of buttoning up your shirt,” she noted, smiling at the pair of birds peeking out from under his loose-fitted printed top. Not that she — or anyone for that matter — was complaining.  

“Mmm, I’m hopeless at that,” he grinned. “Can I get you a drink? We brought some champagne.”

“ _Fancy_. I’d love one.”

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

A few hours later, Taylor had lost count of how many drinks she’d had. She remembered the glass of champagne from Harry, doing shots with the girls, doing more shots with Ed, and accepting a mix of god-knows-what from Cara. Then there were the random “Happy birthday — have this!”’s that had her bouncier and more affectionate that usual. Which was how she wound up taking a dancing break on the couch squished in between Karlie and Ed, legs crossed and a hand on either of their thighs as she watched Harry talking to Abigail on the other side of the room. She only realised she wasn’t paying attention to the conversation around her when a waving hand blocked her view of Harry’s bum. ( _Fuck_ those skinny jeans were good to him.)

“Hello? Earth to Taylor—”

“I’m listening,” she lied, patting Ed’s leg and giving him an innocent smile. 

“What did I just say?” he challenged. 

“Um, something about my birthday?” she guessed, which in all fairness wasn’t too bad. She’d been fielding questions about herself all night. 

“I said Harry wanted to get you some sparkly handcuffs for tonight.”

“But we already did that years ago. I probably still have them in my drawer.” Taylor didn’t understand the look on Ed’s face, and she frowned in confusion, “What?”

“I was kidding.”

“Oh.”

Well that was awkward. 

“Have you talked to him?” Karlie asked, breaking the pause which had settled between them. “About…”

She shook her head, and Ed gave her a slight nudge. “Are you really going to go through with this deal?”

“He told you?” she asked, though she wasn’t really surprised. It’s not like she hadn’t told anyone. She’d talked it through with Karlie not long after it had happened, and again this past week. She’d needed someone to tell her she wasn’t being ridiculous for taking it seriously. 

“He texted me the night you made it,” Ed explained. “Something about _“fuck I’m marrying Taylor”_ and _“no we didn’t fuck on your couch this time”_. Didn’t make a lot of sense until we talked later.”

Harry was laughing across the room and Taylor couldn’t stop the stupid smile creeping up on her face. She’d always known the feelings between them had never really left; Harry had made it very obvious that he still felt that familiar rush of longing whenever he looked at her. They’d both been with other people since their relationship; both shared stories and watched each other find happiness with someone else. At a party when she was with her last boyfriend, Taylor overheard a conversation between Harry and Niall and could never quite get the words “I’m terrified I’ve lost her for good” out of her head. Harry had been the first one she’d called when they broke up and she’d always felt guilty for making him sit on the phone for hours while she ranted and cried until she eventually fell asleep. She’d gotten a flower delivery from him the next day and spent the morning sobbing all over again because she had this wonderful boy who was hopelessly in love with her but she just set him aside every time. 

So as unnatural as it all was, her thirtieth birthday was one Taylor had been looking forward to. She could finally admit to herself and to Harry that he was someone she wanted to keep in her life for a long time. 

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

With a shift in confidence, Taylor left the conversation without so much as an “I’ll be back”, sauntering across the room on her Louboutin’s to interject another. 

“I hate to interrupt,” — yeah right — “but I kind of need to borrow you for a minute,” she said politely, tilting her head as she looked at Harry and waited for him to catch on. 

Abigail seemed to get it faster than he did. She excused herself with, “I was gonna go get another one of those cupcakes anyway,” which actually made Taylor want one too, but she wasn’t about to be distracted by small cake. Boy first, cake later. (She actually believed it should be the other way around, but she let herself switch it since it was her birthday and she could make the rules as she pleased.)

Taking him by the hand, Taylor whisked Harry off proudly through the party and up the stairs. Even only briefly down the hall it was quieter, and Harry was about to ask where they were going when she stopped suddenly and pulled him into a long awaited kiss. Despite taking him by surprise, they fell into each other as easily as ever, arms wrapping around each other as they found their gentle rhythm almost instantly. They’d had their slip ups over the years — the accidental waking up beside each other after a few too many drinks bringing up feelings they were too afraid to admit sober, and every time Taylor wondered how they’d managed to go so long without each other. She remembered their last kiss — it was early May, at a dinner he’d organised and asked her to help out with. She’d kissed him just before she left, the look of amazement on his face still lingering in her mind. That seemed an age away now. 

With fingers tangled in his mess of dark hair, Taylor could hardly help her smile as his hands settled on her hips and her back found the wall. There was always an intensity that came to being with Harry — he was always very focused when he looked at you, even more so when it came to intimacy. Taylor had never felt more like someone really truly _wanted_ her than she did with Harry’s lips on hers and his hands on her bare skin. 

It occurred to her that she could have just that — that she could take his hand once more and lead him the few steps to her bedroom, forget the party and spend the rest of the night with this gorgeous man who would make her feel like the most special girl in the world. But — aside from it being a bit rude to abandon her friends like that — she remembered that there was still birthday cake to be had, and she giggled a bit to herself about the little rule from before, making Harry pull away with the love struck grin of a boy who had finally kissed his crush. 

“Are you laughing at me?”

She shook her head, sliding her hands to cup either side of his face. “I want cake,” she confessed, which had the pair of them laughing ridiculously in the empty hallway. 

“You’re the cutest drunk I’ve ever met,” Harry told her with a peck on the tip of her nose once they’d calmed down. Everything was funnier when you added some alcohol into the mix. Especially when you were two excitable people in the first place. 

“What about when I’m not?” she asked slowly, which, okay, _maybe_ she was just fishing for another compliment. 

“Still the cutest,” he assured her, and they were kissing again when her next surprise rolled around. 

Taylor pulled away with her eyes squeezed shut, beaming as she heard an all too familiar beat coming from downstairs. “Oh my god.”

“Did you really put that on the playlist?”

“Wasn’t me.”

Harry stepped back and she pressed her lips to his one more time before heading back off to the party, descending the stairs as fast as her heels and altered sense of balance could manage. He trailed behind her as she searched the crowd for the two laughing girls lingering by the food table, who she playfully punched in the arm before giving in to the temptation of dancing to her own song. Harry stayed back a bit as he watched Taylor’s emphatic movements to Shake It Off; maybe if she had a little less alcohol buzzing through her she would be embarrassed that her friends had sneakily added her song to the playlist and wouldn’t be as enthusiastic in embracing it. But that wouldn’t be as fun, would it?

Singing along as if she were on stage (except, y'know, not quite as on point), Taylor found Harry in amongst everyone busting out their worst dance moves just in time to point at him and sing, _“And to the hella over there with the hella good hair…”_ He stood there a little mesmerised as she beckoned him over and swung her hips on each “shake”, winking at him after the last. She burst into laughter and started jumping around again, and Harry? Harry was wondering how he’d fallen for such a total, yet undeniably stunning, dork. 

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

By the time the cake came out, people were starting to wind down. Taylor stood at the end of the table with a party hat someone had plonked on her head, pulling faces at the few people standing around who had already pulled out their phones to take pictures. There was a very instagram worthy picture of her with her hand under her chin and her eyes wide floating around on one camera roll. (Harry scored one of her with her hand on her chest while she was dancing earlier, and you can imagine how much he appreciated that.)

A chorus of “Happy Birthday” began as Karlie and Este carried in a layered cake brightly lit by exactly thirty thin candles. Taylor bounced on her toes with a wide grin like a little kid, gasping as the girls set it down in front of her and she got a proper look at the three-tiered tower. Completely covered in white fondant, little dollops of deep red cream framed the edges, with a carefully carved “30” in matching red fondant on the top layer. It was way more than she’d expected, and she really just wanted to hug her best friend right then, but they’d all just finished the song and it was her turn to hold back her hair and blow out the candles. Which she learnt is way harder when you’re as old as she was now. Even more so when what you would think of to wish for is standing all around you. 

Managing it in two breaths, there were cheers all around, and Karlie handed her a knife. Reluctant to cut into the perfect top layer, Taylor drew the knife in slowly, not quite reaching the bottom of the section. She let Karlie do the rest, her eyes widening and a collective gasp from those who could see as Karlie cut her a slice and handed it to her on a paper plate. In what she learnt was white chocolate cake was a dark swirl of raspberry, looking almost impossibly impressive. 

“I love you so much,” Taylor sighed as she wrapped her arms around the taller girl and kissed her on the cheek. “So so much.”

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” Karlie grinned, returning the favour before setting out on cake cutting duty. 

Taylor wound up back on the couch, happily digging in to her slice as she sat in between Abigail and Harry this time. Legs draped across his, she didn’t have a lot of care about secrecy at this point. She would’ve sat on his lap and kissed him right there if there wasn’t cake to be eaten. And if they’d actually talked, but mostly because there was cake. 

“This is so good,” she told them, which was about the third variation of the statement, only just comprehensive since each time she was in the middle of a mouthful. Not her most polite of moments, but it _was_ fucking amazing cake. You go, Karlie. 

“I wish I hadn’t had so many of those other cupcakes,” Abigail groaned as she stabbed her fork into her own piece. “Then I could get away with another slice of this.”

“Hey!” Taylor shifted on the spot, waving her plastic fork in the red head’s direction. “I made those cupcakes. Don’t dis the cupcakes.”

“She does have a point,” Harry chimed in, which earned him a stab in the arm with the plastic prongs. 

“It’s my _birthday_. You can’t be mean to me,” she said matter-of-factly, looking around the room as she took another mouthful. People were mingling around with their plates, smiling as they chatted, some bopping their heads to the music still playing. The balloons had worked their way all around; she was thankful the helium was holding out. Dealing with the cats trying to play with them wasn’t something she wanted to do tonight. Frowning at a few floating together across from them, she pointed her finger, “Why’d you get me a snake one?”

Giggles came from either side of her. “That’s just a long balloon, love,” Harry clarified, patting her thigh fondly. 

“Oh.” She was a bit more out of it than she’d thought. “What about that one? Does that say _happy third birthday_?”

“They didn’t have one that said thirty.”

“Oh my god, I have to instagram that. Where’s my phone?”

After an “It’s on the table” from Abigail, Taylor scrambled to her feet to go in search, finishing off her cake on the way. Switching her plate for her phone, she snapped a careful picture, leaving the few new texts she had sitting there for the morning. Notifications running on high as usual, she debated over filters before deciding just to leave it as it was, and after typing out a caption and hitting post she returned to her spot on the couch. 

_Someone doesn’t know how to math._

“You spelled “doesn’t” wrong,” Harry teased as he looked down at his own phone, finger hovering over the like button as she looked at him in worry. “I’m kidding, love.”

“What did I say about being mean?” she chastised, placing a glitter-painted fingernail on his thigh and tracing random circles. “We still need to talk, you know.”

“And this is my cue to leave,” Abigail realised once more, smoothing down her dress as she got up to find someone else to talk to instead of overseeing the complicated conversation to come. 

Harry took his sweet time to start it, too, slowly chewing the last bit of his cake before eventually saying, “I thought you might want to wait for a bit of privacy.”

Taylor blinked at him. He knew exactly what would happen when they got “a bit of privacy”, and it sure wasn’t going to involve a whole lot of talking. She’d already proved that tonight, for god’s sake. 

“You do still want it, right?” she checked, trying not to jump to conclusions. 

“I was worried you didn’t,” he admitted quietly, and then she got it. She understood that for all his excitement over the idea, he was frightened that the time would come around and she would back out, that she wouldn’t see him as any more than a friend with the occasional benefit. She wondered how he could possibly not know that she didn’t work like that. She would never string him along for years only to leave him stranded. She’d known the whole goddamn time that Harry was something special and that she couldn’t let him go but she’d been too _scared_ to have things not work out again. They couldn’t end on a bad note. That’s not how their story was meant to finish. 

Hand moving up to his jaw, Taylor brought her lips to his in an unashamed kiss. At most it might’ve caused some raised eyebrows and nudged elbows, if anyone even noticed. These were people they’d known for years; it couldn’t come as that much of a shock. They were hardly the most subtle. If anything, it was Harry who was the most stunned. 

“I always wanted it,” she confessed, holding her breath for his reaction. 

Harry met her eyes, expression soft. “You’re not just saying that 'cause you’re dr—”

“I _always_ wanted it,” she repeated, cutting him off. “Why do you think I kept coming back to you?”

“'cause you get a bit emotional when you’re drunk,” he teased with a small smile, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Or because I want you.”

“You want me?”

“You just want to hear me say it again.”

“I do.”

“I want you.”

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her in for another kiss, more heated than it really should’ve been considering they had an audience but just enough to match the moment perfectly. A whistle came from somewhere behind them after a moment or so, which made Taylor break away as she laughed, burying her face in his neck to hide her blush. 

“I want you too, love,” he told her, as if she didn’t already know. 

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Things quietened down and people made their departures until there was only a few of them left. They made first efforts at cleaning things up — putting away leftover food, collating paper plates, picking up other bits of rubbish that hadn’t found their way into a bin. Taylor wasn’t much help; she was messing around with Harry, running around and giggling and kissing when they thought no one was watching, all the while still wearing that silly party hat. It didn’t feel like she was thirty at all. 

To their credit, they stayed with the others until they decided to hit the guest beds. Taylor suspected they only said that to be polite and that she’d still be able to hear them downstairs talking and playing music, but it’s not like she minded. That was more comforting than the idea of her best friends being able to hear what everyone had known what was going to happen from the start. It was one thing having them aware of it, another having them listen to every creak of the mattress. 

As soon as the door shut behind them, their lips were connected again and Taylor was working on the shirt buttons Harry had bothered to do up. He helped her out of her dress and took off his jeans in what always felt an impossibly quick amount of time, considering how tight they always were. She gasped when he lifted her up off her feet, wrapping her long legs around his waist as he carried her over to her bed. 

“Such a gentleman,” she commented when he set her down and they got themselves comfortable in the centre of the mattress, sighing as he placed gentle kisses down her neck. 

“Are you gonna take that hat off?” he laughed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. 

“Why, is it distracting you?” she asked as she ran her fingers through his hair, wanting him to move back down and keep doing that again. 

“A little.” Hooking his finger under the string and lifting it over her chin, he took the party hat and tossed it aside, laughing at the crash of cardboard hitting the floor. “That’s better.”

“If you broke it, you owe me a new one.”

“ _Or_ , I could make it up to you a different way.”

“Mmm, and how would you do that?”

Taylor smiled as he kissed her slowly, melting into his familiar taste and feel of his solid body hovering above her. It was easy to lose herself in Harry. When he wasn’t even around he consumed her thoughts, and moments like now her mind was one big sigh of _Harry_. He was her weakness. 

When he broke away after god knows how long, Taylor let out a small whine of protest, until he pressed his lips to her neck in short, hot kisses that had her tilting her head and tugging at his hair. He helped her out of bra, making her laugh when he told her that he thought it was pretty. She already knew that; she’d picked it for a reason. At least she knew it had worked. 

Harry trailed kisses down her body, sucking down to leave a mark just below her breast for only the two of them to see and nipping at her hip bone as he pulled off her briefs. A long sigh escaped her lips as he moved between her legs and ran his tongue in a slow motion, bottom to top. As many times as they’d done this before, Taylor never got used to Harry holding one of her hands as he went down on her, tongue lapping at her centre at a leisurely pace that completely relaxed her and had her writhing whenever he sucked down on her clit. If there was one thing Harry was good at, it was sending her into back-arching, leg-shaking ecstasy. 

Which was exactly what he did, before leaving her for a moment that felt much longer now that she had lost his touch. A rustle of denim, a muttered “ _fuck_ ” in what sounded like him almost tripping over when he pulled off his underwear, Taylor laid with her eyes closed and a euphoric smile on her face. When he climbed back on top of her she placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him into a kiss, tasting herself on his lips. “I missed you,” she sighed contentedly. Daydreaming was never the same as having him right there. 

“I missed you too, love,” he said softly, and she caught him by surprise when she moved to take him in her hand. He groaned and dropped the condom he’d collected and been trying to open; she hadn’t been the only one desperate to be close. “Taylor…”

“Do you want me to—”

“I want to fuck you,” he said outright, voice thick in his throat. “I want—  _God_ , Taylor—”

She couldn’t help her slight smirk as he pressed his hips down against her quick-moving hand. She remembered the last time she’d done this and she was sure he did too – horny as fuck for some birthday sex earlier in the year, Taylor had already made him come twice before she’d even gotten him inside her. As tempted as she was to repeat her cheeky choice to distract him with a hand job just before he got the prize, she wanted all of him more than she wanted a sticky stomach. (Though they’d finished that night with a gorgeous shower and warm cuddles, so it might not have been that bad a choice to do it again.)

So obediently taking her hand away, Taylor let Harry give her the birthday present he’d been intending on. 

Fingers trailing up and down his bare back and other hand tangled in his curls, Taylor revelled in his slow and steady thrusts. She’d joked one time about how good at keeping time he was, but god did she love it. It wasn’t an effort to find rhythm with him like it had been with some other guys; they just _fit_. They knew each other completely by now – she could pick every tattoo by heart and he could point out every freckle she normally kept hidden by her clothes. They knew how to send each other into a state of total bliss that never seemed to compare to anything with anyone else. 

With intense kisses to match the heat pulsing through their bodies, Harry drove her crazy with long drawn out moans that lasted as long as his deep thrusts. She tugged at his hair and dug her nails into his back, which only seemed to encourage him — not that she was complaining. Each low moan inched her that bit closer to the edge, something some people would kill for and that she got all to herself. 

When his head dropped to rest on her shoulder and a desperate “fuck” escaped his lips, she knew he was struggling to keep himself together. 

“C'mon baby,” she whispered encouragingly, tilting his head to pull him into kiss. 

Starting to move a bit harder, the pair of them didn’t worry about holding back, especially when he got her right _there_ and she arched her back and groaned involuntarily loud. It always became a kind of challenge to see how many times he could reach her spot before they were clinging on to each other as the force of their orgasms hit them. (They never scored very high, but who really cares when your whole body is in paradise.)

Harry rode out her high as it took her by surprise (her last for the night) until he stuttered to a halt as his own hit him hard. They panted to catch their breath, looking at each other with so much more than lust before giving each other one last sensual kiss. 

Taylor lay in elation as she waited for him to return from the bathroom. He never took long, but after all that the seconds without him touching her in some way seemed to drag on for days. They tangled up together under the blankets, snuggled into their tender embrace, enjoying the peace of cuddles and the rise and fall of each other’s now gentle breaths. 

“So, what are we?” Harry asked in a whisper that didn’t sound as sure of himself as it should be. 

While it had never seemed it could be that easy with the way their lives were, Taylor left him to fall asleep with a simple, comforting answer — “You’re mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! hmu on tumblr @alltootay with feedback/requests/whatevs :))


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